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stripytightsTitle: Walk Away
Fandom: Supernatural RPS
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jensen Ackles/ Jared Padalecki
Warnings/kinks: a/b/o world, knotting, dub-con (thanks to heats)
Word count: 2811
Summary: Jensen's never been knotted, takes pride in never having had it done. But when a complete stranger bursts through his suppressors and drives him into heat, keeping hold of that resolution is more difficult than it seems.
Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
alezig , thanks for the great prompt- can be found here
There are sometimes good things about being a waiter, there really are. The place Jensen works is just nice enough to get customers who tip well, and not nice enough to get the sort of assholes who’ll complain if their fork is off by five degrees on the tablecloth, and act like it’s a world tragedy. It’s the hotel’s third restaurant, the relaxed one and the clientele is mostly folks with their kids, and the very occasional business person sitting alone and reading through their papers. Luckily Jensen likes kids, though he doesn’t plan on having any for a few years yet. This job is helping him save up money for the third year of college, and if there’s one thing he knows it’s that he couldn’t cope with kids and college.
Sadly it means pretty much not dating nowadays, every time he tries going out with an alpha he ends up face down on a sofa or a bed with them whispering that they’re going to breed his sweet ass, fill him with babies like nature intended, and Jensen has had to threaten to use the pepper spray and ask them to think up some better dirty talk because seriously? When five out of six dates have told you they can’t wait to see you swelling up, it becomes less hot and more repetitive. Sadly nearly everyone he’s dated has been uber old fashioned and proper and believed that sex on the first date is mandatory, and he sort of gets horrified looks when he suggests they wait a little bit like he’s being vaguely indecent. Everyone knows having sex is the best way to find if someone is compatible, and his taking expensive suppressors got more than a few eyebrows raised. How will you know who matches you, if you don’t go into heat? being the most common question, and not many people believe him when he tells them he doesn’t care that much about matching.
He’s tried some betas, and they’re usually nice, but half of them have inferiority complexes over not being able to knot him properly, like they imagine he wants, and the other half over-compensate by being as far from alpha-like as they can get. He’s taken to dating omegas when he can, but there’s not many omegas looking for an O-on-O relationship, and it’s never really worked out. Which means that after six years of eligible dating and one hundred and twenty four dates, he’s right where he started, alone.
Still he’s actually secretly rather proud of that. He’s not a virgin obviously, but he’s never been knotted even as a trial to see what it’s like. He hasn’t even used the regulation toys, never been tempted to experiment which makes him a weirdo, but he’s pretty happy that way. Getting knotted is bottom of his set of priorities, he’s got work, college, family, good friends, he’s not ready to Match.
So when while carrying two plates of arugula stuffed lamb, he almost doubles over at how good the guy who just walked in smells and looks, and only just manages to retain hold of the plates, his first thought isn’t ‘who the fuck needs pants anyway,’ but an irritated ‘not now,’ before he realises just how odd he feels. He sets the plates down in a hurry, smiles at the customers, calls the sommelier over to get them another bottle of wine, and only then scurries out to the kitchen to lean gasping against the door, like he’s run a marathon. When he dares a swift glance round the door, the guy is sitting innocently at a table with his nose in a book, and Jensen is shooed out to take his order. He approaches with a practiced smile, welcomes the other man, tells him the chef’s special dishes, all the while aware that a slow trembling flush is breaking out under his clothes, that his skin feels too hot and too small for his body, and that the guy in front of him is barely listening, is instead just staring at him like there’s nobody else in the room. He gets out of there as fast as he can, leans his reddened face against the coolness of the huge metal refrigerator, and breathes in deep before he goes to find Jeff.
“He’s done something,” are his first words. There are herbal supplements some alphas swear by, claim they intensify scent enough to attract every omega in a few metres, it’s not illegal- they don’t make you fuck them, just make you more noticeable and increase your chances of getting a date. It’s like walking around half hard all day though, distasteful if not outright criminal, suitable only for certain clubs and the like, and Jensen is sure tall, dark and handsome is stuffed to the gills on them, and he tries to explain this to Jeff, tell him about how odd he feels. To Jeff’s eternal credit, he doesn’t laugh, just listens gravely then calls Lucy over, tells her to present the guest Jensen’s talking about with the goat’s cheese salad he requested as a starter (even half dazed with lust Jensen had still remembered the order.)
She does, and comes back puzzled. “Nothing that unusual. I mean sure he’s handsome and he smells good but nothing really special.” She looks at Jeff and raises her eyebrows, and Jensen is pretty sure he sees a smile twitch across her face. “Can we take five boss?” It’s a really slow night and Jeff waves them off for a cigarette break.
Lucy leans against the door and lights up, while Jensen sinks down onto a crate. “I feel shitty,” he moans, holding his head in his hands but thankful for the cool air outside. His body is cramping now, small twitches of muscle locking up in his arms and legs, and he can’t figure out why his body has decided the best reaction to this stranger is outright lust and also muscle spasms.
After a long drag, Lucy bends down to stare him in the face. “Don’t be stupider than you have to be Jensen,” she said fondly. “When was the last time you went into heat?”
“I was seventeen,” Jensen said irritably. “Why are you asking me that now?” It took a moment for her meaning to sink in and when it did he sprang upright. “That’s ridiculous,” he said and was surprised at how angry he felt. “I’ve been on suppressors since I was seventeen. Suuprafil, the lot, they’re 99% guaranteed to suppress all heats.”
Lucy held her hands up. “It’s not me you need to convince,” she said dryly. “I’m just saying it’s not impossible okay? It’s possible to meet someone who can bypass that and go straight to your lizard-brain. Hell it happened to a friend of mine. She was one hundred percent certain she didn’t want to get Matched, took her suppressors all the time like a good little Omega, but when she met the one none of that mattered.”
Jensen stopped listening after that and sank his head back into his hands. Lucy was right, this was heat, and shit, shit, shit this was the wrong time for it. The dude was hot but he wasn’t Jensen’s type, too big, too alpha looking, exactly the sort of bastard who’d knot you even if you said no. He felt Lucy’s hand on his shoulder briefly, heard her telling him she’d let Jeff know, and listened to her footsteps fade, brief burst of sound from the kitchen as the door swung open then closed again.
A minute later, hesitant footsteps approached and Jensen looked up expecting to see Jeff, but seeing the dude from the restaurant instead. He leapt up and squared himself. If he had to fight this one out he was going to dammit. The other man walked cautiously closer, and yeah he was pretty hot even in the dim light outside, and Jensen’s knees almost buckled at the sheer warmth that ran through him and it took genuine effort to stay upright. He managed it though, managed to stay standing and alert. When the dude was right up close he could see his expression- pure undiluted lust, and his eyes were soft and full of awe like there was something so fucking special about Jensen that he couldn’t look away, and that snapped Jensen out of it like nothing else could have. This wasn’t love or whatever Matchings were supposed to be about. This was biology making sure the race was continued, and yeah he was having none of it. He opened his mouth to say that, but in one more step the man was there, and those huge hands were framing his face, tugging him closer to kiss him, and he just went liquid because this was like literally nothing he’d ever felt before.
It was more than just a kiss, he could feel it in every pore of his body, and distantly he wondered if he’d been missing out by suppressing this, but the thought scattered as the other man nipped on his lip, sucked it in to soothe the small hurt, slid one hand round his neck, tilting him upwards to continue the kiss, tongue exploring his mouth with delicate flicks, and Jensen wasn’t about to say no to something that felt as good as this.
He doesn’t know exactly how they got back to the room, but he thanked God that Jared (the name had been whispered as they necked in the elevator) was staying at this hotel, because otherwise it could have been highly embarrassing for both of them. The heat that had flooded through him at the first sight of Jared, had settled to a slow molten fire in his stomach that made it difficult for him to think, made him want to tear his clothes off, sink onto Jared and take him in, make him Jensen’s, and the little voice that was pointing out that he knew less than nothing about this man was almost extinguished, next to the wet open ache of his ass, the rock hardness of his cock, and just how badly he wanted this in a way he hadn’t in years. It was a sort of liberation knowing this was out of his hands, forget second, third and fourth dates, this is what people had been talking about all this time, this was how good it felt, and he couldn’t even remember why he hadn’t wanted it.
With a frenzied hunger he ran his fingers down Jared’s back, digging in tight, almost tearing his shirt off him, the suppressed hunger of years catching up with him, rendering him almost speechless as he yanked off his own shirt and threw it down, pushing Jared back on the bed, climbing on, desperate for nothing more than Jared in him now. There was no time for the sort of foreplay betas and other omegas indulged in, no room for anything bar this fuck right now, how badly he needed it, couldn’t control himself in the least.
Jared was more than big enough, and if he’d been in his usual mind Jensen would’ve hesitated, but he was so overwhelmed by the whole situation that it didn’t even factor in to his decision. Despite the copious amounts of slick he was producing (wetter than he’d ever been in his entire life) and being as relaxed as he could make himself, it took moments of fumbling to get it in, and every moment was like a terrible weight of pressure added to his desperation, Jared’s hands firm around his waist, holding him up as he tried to sink down, slicked cock sliding past him several times, until he could’ve screamed in frustration. As it was he was practically sobbing, deaf and blind to everything around him, muscles clenching tight as he forced himself to sit back for a moment, let his thighs take his weight as Jared slid in strong experienced fingers that went at least part way to assuaging the fever spreading through him, spreading him apart. He shivered on them, moaned as Jared gripped him with one hand, and holding his own cock firmly guided it against Jensen, perfect pressure breaching him hard enough to make him break out in goosebumps, and so damn amazing he couldn’t even think.
When he was fully seated, his cock hard and desperate for a touch, he took a moment to adjust, a moment to let himself feel this properly, before his need drove him to take more, to wring everything he could out of this, couldn’t help meeting Jared’s eyes for a brief second, and redoubling his exertions when he saw the dazed look on the other man’s face, the unfocused lust written on his features. This wouldn’t take long, and he couldn’t help fearing the loss, afraid of the emptiness that would ensue, torn between the need to come as soon as he could, and the want to make this last.
He would never, not for the rest of his life be able to explain what happened next. How in one second he could go from complete and utter abandoness to an almost cold-headed clearness of thought. He suspected it was the combination of feeling Jared’s knot just begin to swell, and Jared’s hands brushing over his stomach, thumbs indenting in. Whatever the reason, while his body was still completely overwhelmed, would have done anything to have more of this, more of Jared as deep inside as he could get; his mind focused on one thing. They weren’t using a condom, and if Jared’s scent could break through suppressors that had served him well for years, then Jensen’s birth control was at risk of failing as well. Forty minutes of being knotted together, Jared keeping his come inside Jensen for that length of time, it wasn’t exactly great odds.
The message was drilled into omegas from a very young age. You don’t let yourself get into situations where you’re not happy to take the consequences. By any reasonable measure of the law, hell of society Jensen was in the wrong here. He’d had the choice of saying no, of walking away from this. Knotting was the obvious finale to a heat-induced fucking between an alpha and an omega, no-one would even think that an omega wouldn’t want that, wouldn’t believe it if they heard it. Jared would be wronged, left with a painfully deflating knot, and have the full right of demanding satisfaction. Hell nothing said he had to walk away. When the knot got in, with the extra flood of hormones even Jensen wouldn’t want to say no, wouldn’t think it.
So lifting himself off Jared was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life, backing a step away on legs so wobbly they could barely hold him, thick trails of slick tracing their way down his thighs, bruises from Jared’s hands still imprinted on his hips, and words he could barely form in his mouth. “No,” he said, the words thick and heavy in his mouth. “No knotting.” The force of Jared’s disappointment hit him like a brick, and he stumbled backwards, bent down to pick up his shirt (not in his worst nightmare could he imagine stumbling out completely naked,) and almost fell forward again, so strongly drawn to Jared that he could hardly resist, didn’t see how he could even make it out of the room. He knew Jared could sense it, and when the other man stood up, Jensen tensed, ready to resist when every bone in his body wanted him to spread his legs, let Jared sink right back in and take him.
But Jared brushed past him, headed straight for the bathroom. “Go,” he said, voice barely audible, as he stepped inside and locked himself in, faint click of the lock like a gunshot in the silence. Jensen stood there, his shirt in his arms, his senses clearing with every second that passed. Jared had locked himself in rather than ignore Jensen’s no. With no clear purpose he turned, trembling, still hard and desperate, and picked up his pants before spotting the hospitality cabinet in one corner. He opened it, spotting instantly the pack of alpha condoms, expandable and strong. For a moment he fought his fear, fought against the assumption of what this meant to him. Remembered the look on Jared’s face. Then picking them up, he walked to the bathroom door and knocked on it.
Jared unlocked it, eyes still dark and frightened. “Why?” he said, as Jensen held out the condom, stepped forward until he was close enough to touch and slid his arms round his neck like he could never let go.
“Because,” said Jensen, his voice steady. “You would’ve let me leave.”
Fandom: Supernatural RPS
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jensen Ackles/ Jared Padalecki
Warnings/kinks: a/b/o world, knotting, dub-con (thanks to heats)
Word count: 2811
Summary: Jensen's never been knotted, takes pride in never having had it done. But when a complete stranger bursts through his suppressors and drives him into heat, keeping hold of that resolution is more difficult than it seems.
Written for
alezig , thanks for the great prompt- can be found here There are sometimes good things about being a waiter, there really are. The place Jensen works is just nice enough to get customers who tip well, and not nice enough to get the sort of assholes who’ll complain if their fork is off by five degrees on the tablecloth, and act like it’s a world tragedy. It’s the hotel’s third restaurant, the relaxed one and the clientele is mostly folks with their kids, and the very occasional business person sitting alone and reading through their papers. Luckily Jensen likes kids, though he doesn’t plan on having any for a few years yet. This job is helping him save up money for the third year of college, and if there’s one thing he knows it’s that he couldn’t cope with kids and college.
Sadly it means pretty much not dating nowadays, every time he tries going out with an alpha he ends up face down on a sofa or a bed with them whispering that they’re going to breed his sweet ass, fill him with babies like nature intended, and Jensen has had to threaten to use the pepper spray and ask them to think up some better dirty talk because seriously? When five out of six dates have told you they can’t wait to see you swelling up, it becomes less hot and more repetitive. Sadly nearly everyone he’s dated has been uber old fashioned and proper and believed that sex on the first date is mandatory, and he sort of gets horrified looks when he suggests they wait a little bit like he’s being vaguely indecent. Everyone knows having sex is the best way to find if someone is compatible, and his taking expensive suppressors got more than a few eyebrows raised. How will you know who matches you, if you don’t go into heat? being the most common question, and not many people believe him when he tells them he doesn’t care that much about matching.
He’s tried some betas, and they’re usually nice, but half of them have inferiority complexes over not being able to knot him properly, like they imagine he wants, and the other half over-compensate by being as far from alpha-like as they can get. He’s taken to dating omegas when he can, but there’s not many omegas looking for an O-on-O relationship, and it’s never really worked out. Which means that after six years of eligible dating and one hundred and twenty four dates, he’s right where he started, alone.
Still he’s actually secretly rather proud of that. He’s not a virgin obviously, but he’s never been knotted even as a trial to see what it’s like. He hasn’t even used the regulation toys, never been tempted to experiment which makes him a weirdo, but he’s pretty happy that way. Getting knotted is bottom of his set of priorities, he’s got work, college, family, good friends, he’s not ready to Match.
So when while carrying two plates of arugula stuffed lamb, he almost doubles over at how good the guy who just walked in smells and looks, and only just manages to retain hold of the plates, his first thought isn’t ‘who the fuck needs pants anyway,’ but an irritated ‘not now,’ before he realises just how odd he feels. He sets the plates down in a hurry, smiles at the customers, calls the sommelier over to get them another bottle of wine, and only then scurries out to the kitchen to lean gasping against the door, like he’s run a marathon. When he dares a swift glance round the door, the guy is sitting innocently at a table with his nose in a book, and Jensen is shooed out to take his order. He approaches with a practiced smile, welcomes the other man, tells him the chef’s special dishes, all the while aware that a slow trembling flush is breaking out under his clothes, that his skin feels too hot and too small for his body, and that the guy in front of him is barely listening, is instead just staring at him like there’s nobody else in the room. He gets out of there as fast as he can, leans his reddened face against the coolness of the huge metal refrigerator, and breathes in deep before he goes to find Jeff.
“He’s done something,” are his first words. There are herbal supplements some alphas swear by, claim they intensify scent enough to attract every omega in a few metres, it’s not illegal- they don’t make you fuck them, just make you more noticeable and increase your chances of getting a date. It’s like walking around half hard all day though, distasteful if not outright criminal, suitable only for certain clubs and the like, and Jensen is sure tall, dark and handsome is stuffed to the gills on them, and he tries to explain this to Jeff, tell him about how odd he feels. To Jeff’s eternal credit, he doesn’t laugh, just listens gravely then calls Lucy over, tells her to present the guest Jensen’s talking about with the goat’s cheese salad he requested as a starter (even half dazed with lust Jensen had still remembered the order.)
She does, and comes back puzzled. “Nothing that unusual. I mean sure he’s handsome and he smells good but nothing really special.” She looks at Jeff and raises her eyebrows, and Jensen is pretty sure he sees a smile twitch across her face. “Can we take five boss?” It’s a really slow night and Jeff waves them off for a cigarette break.
Lucy leans against the door and lights up, while Jensen sinks down onto a crate. “I feel shitty,” he moans, holding his head in his hands but thankful for the cool air outside. His body is cramping now, small twitches of muscle locking up in his arms and legs, and he can’t figure out why his body has decided the best reaction to this stranger is outright lust and also muscle spasms.
After a long drag, Lucy bends down to stare him in the face. “Don’t be stupider than you have to be Jensen,” she said fondly. “When was the last time you went into heat?”
“I was seventeen,” Jensen said irritably. “Why are you asking me that now?” It took a moment for her meaning to sink in and when it did he sprang upright. “That’s ridiculous,” he said and was surprised at how angry he felt. “I’ve been on suppressors since I was seventeen. Suuprafil, the lot, they’re 99% guaranteed to suppress all heats.”
Lucy held her hands up. “It’s not me you need to convince,” she said dryly. “I’m just saying it’s not impossible okay? It’s possible to meet someone who can bypass that and go straight to your lizard-brain. Hell it happened to a friend of mine. She was one hundred percent certain she didn’t want to get Matched, took her suppressors all the time like a good little Omega, but when she met the one none of that mattered.”
Jensen stopped listening after that and sank his head back into his hands. Lucy was right, this was heat, and shit, shit, shit this was the wrong time for it. The dude was hot but he wasn’t Jensen’s type, too big, too alpha looking, exactly the sort of bastard who’d knot you even if you said no. He felt Lucy’s hand on his shoulder briefly, heard her telling him she’d let Jeff know, and listened to her footsteps fade, brief burst of sound from the kitchen as the door swung open then closed again.
A minute later, hesitant footsteps approached and Jensen looked up expecting to see Jeff, but seeing the dude from the restaurant instead. He leapt up and squared himself. If he had to fight this one out he was going to dammit. The other man walked cautiously closer, and yeah he was pretty hot even in the dim light outside, and Jensen’s knees almost buckled at the sheer warmth that ran through him and it took genuine effort to stay upright. He managed it though, managed to stay standing and alert. When the dude was right up close he could see his expression- pure undiluted lust, and his eyes were soft and full of awe like there was something so fucking special about Jensen that he couldn’t look away, and that snapped Jensen out of it like nothing else could have. This wasn’t love or whatever Matchings were supposed to be about. This was biology making sure the race was continued, and yeah he was having none of it. He opened his mouth to say that, but in one more step the man was there, and those huge hands were framing his face, tugging him closer to kiss him, and he just went liquid because this was like literally nothing he’d ever felt before.
It was more than just a kiss, he could feel it in every pore of his body, and distantly he wondered if he’d been missing out by suppressing this, but the thought scattered as the other man nipped on his lip, sucked it in to soothe the small hurt, slid one hand round his neck, tilting him upwards to continue the kiss, tongue exploring his mouth with delicate flicks, and Jensen wasn’t about to say no to something that felt as good as this.
He doesn’t know exactly how they got back to the room, but he thanked God that Jared (the name had been whispered as they necked in the elevator) was staying at this hotel, because otherwise it could have been highly embarrassing for both of them. The heat that had flooded through him at the first sight of Jared, had settled to a slow molten fire in his stomach that made it difficult for him to think, made him want to tear his clothes off, sink onto Jared and take him in, make him Jensen’s, and the little voice that was pointing out that he knew less than nothing about this man was almost extinguished, next to the wet open ache of his ass, the rock hardness of his cock, and just how badly he wanted this in a way he hadn’t in years. It was a sort of liberation knowing this was out of his hands, forget second, third and fourth dates, this is what people had been talking about all this time, this was how good it felt, and he couldn’t even remember why he hadn’t wanted it.
With a frenzied hunger he ran his fingers down Jared’s back, digging in tight, almost tearing his shirt off him, the suppressed hunger of years catching up with him, rendering him almost speechless as he yanked off his own shirt and threw it down, pushing Jared back on the bed, climbing on, desperate for nothing more than Jared in him now. There was no time for the sort of foreplay betas and other omegas indulged in, no room for anything bar this fuck right now, how badly he needed it, couldn’t control himself in the least.
Jared was more than big enough, and if he’d been in his usual mind Jensen would’ve hesitated, but he was so overwhelmed by the whole situation that it didn’t even factor in to his decision. Despite the copious amounts of slick he was producing (wetter than he’d ever been in his entire life) and being as relaxed as he could make himself, it took moments of fumbling to get it in, and every moment was like a terrible weight of pressure added to his desperation, Jared’s hands firm around his waist, holding him up as he tried to sink down, slicked cock sliding past him several times, until he could’ve screamed in frustration. As it was he was practically sobbing, deaf and blind to everything around him, muscles clenching tight as he forced himself to sit back for a moment, let his thighs take his weight as Jared slid in strong experienced fingers that went at least part way to assuaging the fever spreading through him, spreading him apart. He shivered on them, moaned as Jared gripped him with one hand, and holding his own cock firmly guided it against Jensen, perfect pressure breaching him hard enough to make him break out in goosebumps, and so damn amazing he couldn’t even think.
When he was fully seated, his cock hard and desperate for a touch, he took a moment to adjust, a moment to let himself feel this properly, before his need drove him to take more, to wring everything he could out of this, couldn’t help meeting Jared’s eyes for a brief second, and redoubling his exertions when he saw the dazed look on the other man’s face, the unfocused lust written on his features. This wouldn’t take long, and he couldn’t help fearing the loss, afraid of the emptiness that would ensue, torn between the need to come as soon as he could, and the want to make this last.
He would never, not for the rest of his life be able to explain what happened next. How in one second he could go from complete and utter abandoness to an almost cold-headed clearness of thought. He suspected it was the combination of feeling Jared’s knot just begin to swell, and Jared’s hands brushing over his stomach, thumbs indenting in. Whatever the reason, while his body was still completely overwhelmed, would have done anything to have more of this, more of Jared as deep inside as he could get; his mind focused on one thing. They weren’t using a condom, and if Jared’s scent could break through suppressors that had served him well for years, then Jensen’s birth control was at risk of failing as well. Forty minutes of being knotted together, Jared keeping his come inside Jensen for that length of time, it wasn’t exactly great odds.
The message was drilled into omegas from a very young age. You don’t let yourself get into situations where you’re not happy to take the consequences. By any reasonable measure of the law, hell of society Jensen was in the wrong here. He’d had the choice of saying no, of walking away from this. Knotting was the obvious finale to a heat-induced fucking between an alpha and an omega, no-one would even think that an omega wouldn’t want that, wouldn’t believe it if they heard it. Jared would be wronged, left with a painfully deflating knot, and have the full right of demanding satisfaction. Hell nothing said he had to walk away. When the knot got in, with the extra flood of hormones even Jensen wouldn’t want to say no, wouldn’t think it.
So lifting himself off Jared was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life, backing a step away on legs so wobbly they could barely hold him, thick trails of slick tracing their way down his thighs, bruises from Jared’s hands still imprinted on his hips, and words he could barely form in his mouth. “No,” he said, the words thick and heavy in his mouth. “No knotting.” The force of Jared’s disappointment hit him like a brick, and he stumbled backwards, bent down to pick up his shirt (not in his worst nightmare could he imagine stumbling out completely naked,) and almost fell forward again, so strongly drawn to Jared that he could hardly resist, didn’t see how he could even make it out of the room. He knew Jared could sense it, and when the other man stood up, Jensen tensed, ready to resist when every bone in his body wanted him to spread his legs, let Jared sink right back in and take him.
But Jared brushed past him, headed straight for the bathroom. “Go,” he said, voice barely audible, as he stepped inside and locked himself in, faint click of the lock like a gunshot in the silence. Jensen stood there, his shirt in his arms, his senses clearing with every second that passed. Jared had locked himself in rather than ignore Jensen’s no. With no clear purpose he turned, trembling, still hard and desperate, and picked up his pants before spotting the hospitality cabinet in one corner. He opened it, spotting instantly the pack of alpha condoms, expandable and strong. For a moment he fought his fear, fought against the assumption of what this meant to him. Remembered the look on Jared’s face. Then picking them up, he walked to the bathroom door and knocked on it.
Jared unlocked it, eyes still dark and frightened. “Why?” he said, as Jensen held out the condom, stepped forward until he was close enough to touch and slid his arms round his neck like he could never let go.
“Because,” said Jensen, his voice steady. “You would’ve let me leave.”
